


[insert cheesey cowboy based title here]

by AmandaHuffleduck



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: ALL THE CONSENT, Blow Jobs, Bucky is a size queen, Cowbow Steve, Inspired by Fanart, M/M, Marvel Cinematic AU, Prostitution, Semi-Public Sex, dick-out Cowboy Steve, sometimes you just gotta, tho more like 'bar & grill' hooker!Bucky!, truck stop hooker!Bucky!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 13:47:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20565344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmandaHuffleduck/pseuds/AmandaHuffleduck
Summary: What's a hard working but somewhat lonely rancher supposed to do when he sees someone he'd *cough* like to get to know? Not agonise about it for days, Steve, come on...!





	[insert cheesey cowboy based title here]

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cobaltmoony](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cobaltmoony/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Dick-Out Cowboy Steve](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20387836) by [cobaltmoony](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cobaltmoony/pseuds/cobaltmoony). 

> thank you, cobaltmoony, for your highly inspirational, HIGHLY NSFW art!
> 
> (obligatory disclaimers: unbetad; I own none of this)

Steve turned into the parking lot, easing his truck, his navy blue, freshly washed pride and joy over the raggedy speed hump. He carefully manoeuvred around the larger potholes, the ones that’d lost half their gravel fill-in during the not so recent rains, to a spot towards the back. He could’ve parked closer to the entrance, Capone’s Bar & Grill wasn’t super busy tonight, but the lights didn’t quite reach all the way out here, which might, if the chance arose, make for a secluded spot to -

This was a dumb idea. He should just go home. 

… but he’d driven all the way out here, he could have a drink at least? Then he wouldn’t feel like a total idiot if… if what he hoped was going to happen, didn’t. 

Steve growled at himself and his foolhardiness, took in a deep, fortifying breath, gripped the steering wheel hard with both his hands one last time before squaring his jaw, girding his loins etc etc, and got himself out of the damn truck.

He kept his head down as he ambled as nonchalantly as he was able towards the bar’s entrance, not because he didn’t want to be recognised but because the damn flood lights on the building, the ones that didn’t reach the back of the parking lot, were still bright enough to dazzle him and he did not need a broken ankle from stumbling into one of the damn potholes, Al, seriously, get this shit fixed, it’s a hazard!

Capone’s wasn’t exactly local for him, being more than an hours drive away from the ranch, but he was here often enough dropping off produce that he was on nodding terms with some of the regulars. He returned those friendly nods as he sauntered his way over to the bar. If his gaze flicked around scanning the faces of the people there, looking for one particular face, then that was no-one’s business but his own.

“Hey, Steve,” Carly, Al’s daughter greeted him as he got himself settled on a bar stool. “What’re you having?”

“Just a Millers, thanks. How’re you doing?”

“Oh, okay,” Carly rubbed the prominent swell of her baby bump. “Junior sleeps while I’m awake then wakes up when I’m tryin’ to sleep. Not getting a lot of shut-eye right now.” 

Steve winced in sympathy as he accepted his drink. Sleepless or not though, Carly looked good, happier than he’d seen her in a long time. 

“Ooh!” She squeaked, grinning broadly. “Gimme your hand! Quick!”

Steve obliged and found himself dragged halfway across the bar so Carly could shove his palm against the solid roundness of her belly.

“Feel that?” Her brown eyes sparkled, and yeah, there was definitely something happening under his fingers. 

“Wow.” He said, smiling softly at her. “Strong.”

He rubbed her skin through her top, gentle, a little wistful, before reclaiming his hand: if the circumstances had been right, he could’ve been this baby’s daddy.

Al - his real name was Wallis but he was called Al because well, _Capone’s_ \- had finished serving the boisterous truckers at the other end of the bar. He came over now and shook Steve’s hand. 

“What brings you out here this time of night, Rogers?”

“Just... passing through.” Steve shrugged. “For a quiet drink, y’know.”

“Uhuh.” Al’s weathered face was wonderfully expressive and it was having no trouble right now expressing his scepticism. He shook his head ruefully. “You’re not as subtle as you think.”

“I’m plenty subtle!” Steve protested, as Carly’s laughter cackled out loud over the jukebox and the hum of conversation.

Four days ago Steve had made one of his regular deliveries here, hauled the produce in to the cool store, had Al sign the receipt and had just refused a drink because he had more stops to make and was running late, when his brain skidded to a halt because there was a man here who was _so pretty_. Steve’s first impression was of dark, longish shaggy hair, framing light coloured eyes in a face that was angles, just _really attractive angles_. His second impression backed up his first by confirming that, yes, the guy was indeed damn pretty, noting that those shoulders were broad and he had a really nice looking mouth with soft, wide lips. The guy’s denim jacket was well-worn but not disreputable sitting over what was probably a white tank top? Yep, definitely a tank, ‘cause when the guy lifted the bottle to his mouth, the jacket shifted revealing a strip of skin at the armhole, and a hint of dark hair in his pit that Steve just wanted to stick his nose in to.

_Okay, what?_  
Steve blinked back to himself to see the guy grinning at him. Jesus H. how long had been standing there staring? Steve moved his mouth in to what he hoped was - but wasn’t confident about - a socially acceptable smile. The guy’s grin widened, getting toothy, then he gave Steve a broad wink before turning back to the dumbstruck hick he was getting cosy with. Steve blinked again, then propelled by the sudden rise of a furious blush, he regained control of his body and bolted. 

Safe in the cab of his truck and on the way to the next drop-off, Steve was finally able to try to start processing what the hell had just happened. Okay, so it wasn’t the first time he’d been stopped in his tracks by a good-looking guy, or girl, but… damn, that’d been an extreme reaction even for him. Now, Steve had good instincts and he trusted them, and he was pretty sure the guy was someone his Ma would’ve euphemistically called a ‘working girl’, or ‘boy’ in this case, obviously, and Steve was fine with that, he wasn’t an innocent, or a prude, and this wouldn’t be the first time a, uh, sex worker had turned up at Capone’s. But it was for damn sure the first time he’d given any thought to the idea of utilising their services. 

And now here he was wondering if he’d left it too late. Steve sipped his beer and contemplated his stupidity. What had he been expecting? He hadn’t been able to get that pretty brunet out of his head but it had taken him four days to stop making excuses and get back out here. He would have dithered for ever, but knowing the hookers didn’t tend to stay around for long was what got him out of his head and into his truck.

Steve sighed out through his nose: the guy probably wasn’t even here. He’d missed his chance, _again_, to grab some sorely needed no-strings relief. God, he was such an idiot, always missing out because he always, always over thought things that _weren’t_ punching nazis or righting other wrongs with his fists, but when it came to doing something fun for himself? No, nope, had to think that all through carefully carefully, yessir. God forbid he just jump in and have some fun now and again. 

“Hey, cowboy, buy me a drink?”

Steve twitched: he’d been so focused on his internal pity party he hadn’t even noticed the guy who’d occupied his thoughts so completely for the past couple of days come up beside him. 

“Oh, hey, hi.” 

Steve took a moment to just look because, damn. The guy was leaning back against the bar, elbows resting on the dark wood, making the musculature of his chest clear underneath his worn thin tee shirt. Better yet, one of his feet was propped up on the foot rail, canting his hips up and putting his crotch on display, just daring Steve to look. And so Steve did, for a long, long moment before pulling his eyes back up to the guy’s amused face.

“What - “ Steve cleared his throat. “What can I get you?”

The guy gave Steve his own long, slow, appreciative look up and down, setting a jolt up his spine, a tingle in his toes.

“Actually,” the guy leaned in and Steve swore he could feel the heat of him seeping through to his skin. “Forget about the drink. You want some company?”

_Hoo boy, hot damn, yes please!_

“Sure.” Is what Steve made sure came out of his mouth, nice and casual, not at all desperate. 

“I can blow you for $50.” The guy’s breath was gusting warm against Steve’s cheek. “That okay?”

“Fine.” Steve suppressed the urge to giggle. “Lead on.”

The guy pushed himself off the bar with way more grace than Steve’s half-fumbled dismount from his stool. He shoved his hands in his jeans pockets, not accidentally tightening the fabric enticingly across his groin, and his ass, as he turned around and headed off. Steve could only follow, dragged along by the sway of his hips.

The guy lead him past the bar and then past the toilets, which, to be honest, is where Steve expected them to stop, then further on, past the store rooms and Al’s office. The guy grinned back over his shoulder at Steve before pushing open the rear door. 

“This way.”

They were heading for the staff parking area, Steve realised, and sure enough the guy strode on over to a beat-up silver van parked at the back. New York number plates, Steve noted as he was lead around to the other side of the vehicle, in keeping with the guy’s not-from-around-here accent he supposed. Through the windscreen he glimpsed a clean dashboard, and a mini disco ball hanging from the rear view mirror. He fetched his wallet and hooked out a fifty in readiness. 

He half expected for them to go inside the van and so wasn’t fully prepared to be grabbed and shoved up hard against the cold metal. The guy, almost as tall as him, was looking him straight in the eyes, not at all apologetic, and a little challenging, perhaps. Steve didn’t tense, didn’t fight back, just returned the look and held out the cash. Without breaking eye contact - and holy hell that was getting Steve riled up like nothing else - the guy took the proffered money, casually tucked it in his back pocket, then just dropped without warning straight down to his damn knees!

“_Jesus_.” Steve whispered with reverence.

The guy was squeezing the length of him through his jeans, and Steve watched his expression closely, pleased and relieved to see what looked to be genuine delight bloom on the guy’s face as his dick grew, and grew beneath his palm.

“Fuck me! Is this all you?”

“Sure is.” Steve’s chuckle was somewhat breathless. It wasn’t an exaggeration to say he was well-endowed, and the size of his dick had been off-putting for some in the past. “Not a problem?”

“Fuckin’ a, not for me!” The guy flicked open the button on Steve’s jeans, unzipped his fly, then stared with happy wonder at the bulge in Steve’s shorts. He leant forward and ghosted a couple of open-mouthed kisses over the cotton-covered flesh, making Steve bite his lip to hold back his whimpers. 

“Here.” Steve held out a condom he knew would fit. “I, uh, wasn’t sure - “

“Awesome, thanks!” The guy took it out of his hand. “Very thoughtful.”

The guy nosed his way up Steve’s dick to press the tip of his tongue through the cotton into the slit. He pulled Steve’s underwear and jeans down past his ass then sat back on his heels, eyes wide. 

“Fuck me.” He swore again. “I should give you this for free.”

“Don’t you dare!” Steve coloured at the guy’s surprise at his outburst. “You… you’ve gotta make a living, right?”

“I guess.” the guy shrugged. “But...” He buried his nose in the rough hair at the base Steve’s dick and inhaled deeply. “You smell so fucking good. This is a fucking treat.”

“You’re taking the money.” Steve said, feeling this was one of the strangest conversations he’d ever had sober. “I insist.”

“Well. If you _insist_.”

The heat of the guy’s mouth wasn’t muted much by the thin latex, and he was so damn pretty with his lips stretched around Steve’s dick, Steve wanted to touch him, run his fingers through his hair, stroke his fringe back so he could get a better look at his face. He wanted the guy to look at him again. Steve’s fingers may have twitched towards the guy but he left his hands hanging at his side anyway, not sure if touching was allowed.

The guy was bobbing his head, taking his time taking Steve in, and all the while making these enthusiastic little noises that Steve could feel vibrating in his balls. Steve hoped he really was enjoying himself as much as he seemed to be. 

“You like ‘em big?” Steve’s voice was hoarse and he was already second guessing himself because he’d never been that good at dirty talk.

The guy slid Steve’s dick out of his mouth and looked up at him, his eyes - were they blue? - shining in the shadows. The directness of his gaze once again giving Steve those delicious spine tingles. 

“Oh yeah.” He rasped, his lips plush and red. “Yeah, I like ‘em big.”

Then he got straight back to work and it was a-_mazing_. Steve gasped, his head thunking back against the van as he was taken even deeper. He couldn’t look away for long though, compelled by the sight of this guy on his knees taking his dick down his throat like he was born to it.

Between the guy’s mouth and his hands Steve was having the _best_ time and then there it was, his orgasm, sweeping over and through him, burning him up like a wildfire. Steve would’ve been embarrassed how quick he’d finished if it hadn’t been for a: the guy’s obvious talent at cock sucking, and b: Steve not having any processing power left to criticise himself. 

The guy kept his hands on him while Steve finished riding the aftershocks, grounding him, gentling his descent back to earth, and all the while smiling up at him, the skin crinkling at the corners of his eyes. 

“Good?”

“Yeah. Probably.” Steve panted. “I’ll give you a more comprehensive review when I get my brain back.”

The guy laughed, low and throaty, then with a self-satisfied smirk he removed the condom, somehow making a tease of it. He held it out to Steve.

“Here. A souvenir.”

Steve’s laugh burst out of him.

“Gosh, thanks, I’ll treasure it.” He tied it off then, not knowing what else to do with it, stuck it in his pocket with his wallet.

Still smirking, the guy pulled Steve’s jeans and underwear back up over his ass and hips, carefully tucking his dick back comfortably in his shorts before zipping him up and closing the button. Then he got to his feet, using Steve’s body like a ladder, and pressed close, fingers hooked through the belt loops on Steve’s jeans. He nuzzled into Steve’s neck. 

“I reckon I could take you.” The guy breathed. “I’d need some time to prep, open myself up nice and fucking slow.” Steve made a noise of some sort and he could feel the guy’s smile against his skin. “You’d like to see that? Watch me with my fingers in myself, huh? Getting ready for you? Or would you rather get me ready yourself, hm? Watch me taking your fingers, getting all fucking hot for it?”

Feeling greatly daring, Steve brought his hands up to the guy’s hips. 

“Or. You, uh.” Steve cleared his throat. “You reckon I could take you?”

“Sure, sugar, buy me dinner, treat me nice, you can have whatever you want.”

“Okay.” Steve breathed out. “Okay.”

The rational, practical part of his brain had picked itself up and was mentally checking his bank balance and calculating an upper limit to what he could afford to pay for the ‘date’, but Steve already knew in his heart of hearts that he’d pay whatever was asked.

The guy was looking directly in to his eyes again, a slight smile on his face, then he stepped back letting the chilly night air flow between them like a barrier. 

“Well, thanks for that. Gotta go.” He patted Steve a couple of times on his chest then turned on his heel and started sauntering away. “See you ‘round, Steve.”

After a couple of stunned seconds, by which time the guy was halfway back to the bar’s rear entrance, Steve called out:

“You know my name?” 

The guy turned around to face him, walking backwards and dear God, he was hard in his jeans; he was going to walk back into the bar with an obvious erection.

“I got ears.” He grinned and waved, then turned and jogged the last little distance to the door. Steve watched him go, watched his ass, watched his shoulders, didn’t look away until the door was shut and the guy was out of sight.

Steve heaved a sigh, the spell broken, then cursed at himself when he realised he hadn’t got the guy’s name or number. For a hot second he contemplated going after him but thought better of it: if the guy had, uh, other business to attend to he didn’t want to interrupt. 

Steve started towards his truck then paused - should he go in and say goodbye at least to Carly and Al? No, better leave it be, besides he wasn’t sure he wanted to face them right now. There’d be no judgement, but teasing? Yeah, there might be some of that and if Steve was being honest with himself he was feeling a touch raw. Good, but raw.

The drive home was uneventful, mellow, features of the landscape picked out by the half-moon’s light, something low and soothing playing on the stereo that Steve could sing along with. Yeah, he was feeling good. His phone chimed a few times but he ignored it in favour of road safety. 

Steve pulled up in front of the homestead and turned off the truck before reaching for his phone. There was… a fifty dollar note in there as well? Was that money he'd given the guy? It was! He was sure of it, the exact same corner was folded down. _What?_

Bemused, and already planning on how he was going to go back and give the guy his money, Steve checked his messages.

_Al: I hope you’re happy rogers_

Steve sat up straight: what'd happened? Was something wrong? He held his breath and quickly scrolled down to the next message before his brain could run amok catastrophising.

_Al: I haven’t been a go-between since highschool and that was 37 goddam years ago_

Huh?

_Al: he wants you to have his number_

The last message from Al was a mobile number and an admonition to not be a dick. 

_Thanks :)_ Steve texted back quickly. _I won’t be_

Steve dropped his phone on to the seat beside him then pressed his hands to his flaming cheeks. What the hell? What the _hell_? He did giggle then, just a little then shook out his fingers and picked up his phone again. Then he hesitated, agonising over the perennial question of when to text someone back. _Now?_ Right now? An hour’s time? Should he wait ‘til tomorrow? If he texted now would he be interrupting the guy at work? But if he left it ‘til the morning would the guy think he wasn’t interested? _Jesus, Rogers, get a grip_, Steve tried to be stern with himself. Better text him now anyway, he wasn't going to be able to sleep until he did.

_hi, it’s steve seems like I owe you $50_

There, done. Now he just had to wait and see if the guy responded.

Gratifyingly, his phone chimed before he’d even let himself in to the house.

_hi, this is bucky u only owe me dinner and yr dick ;)_

Bucky, eh? 

_ok but i'm gonna use the 50 to pay for dinner anyway :)_

_r u always this stubborn??_

_you have no idea_ Steve was grinning. _Let me know when you’re free!_

_fiiiiiiiiiine sleep well sugar ;)_

Okay then, looked like he was going on a date.


End file.
